


make yourself right, never mind them (don't you know you're not the only one suffering?)

by orange_yarn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, Platonic Cuddling, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 12:10:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12557076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orange_yarn/pseuds/orange_yarn
Summary: Missing scenes for Reunion & Black Site. Matt feels the need to make amends. He's not the only one.Fill for the "atonement" prompt on my hurt/comfort bingo card.





	make yourself right, never mind them (don't you know you're not the only one suffering?)

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I would like to say that I never, in a million years, intended to write Voltron fic. And then, Matt Holt showed his stupid, beautiful face, and now here I am. Hurt/comfort is my favorite trope -- usually I go more for like, physical injuries, but this one turned out to be more emotional h/c, which is not usually my forte. I hope that's alright.
> 
> This is a couple of missing/extended scenes between/during Reunion & Black Site. I played around with the timeline some. ALSO, I am 100% on board with the 'Shiro is a clone theory.' That being said, I ignored it for the purposes of this fic, because the emotional stuff wouldn't have really worked otherwise. Mostly this is Gen, but there is some implied Matt/Te-osh, and also I suppose there is some implied Matt/Shiro. I will say that when I first wrote it, it was definitely more shippy. I managed to scale most of that back -- not anything against that ship, I just didn't think the ~romance~ angle worked for this. Take from it what you'd like.
> 
> The prompt was "atonement." Title is from "Divisionary (Do the Right Thing)" by Ages and Ages. I'll hush up and let you read.

-+-

 

It could have been worse, Shiro thinks. He’d always known that Pidge would leave them to look for her father and brother. She’d almost done it before, and he was sure she’d thought about it again, and again. At least when it inevitably happened, she was following some reliable intel. At least this time, he reminded himself, she planned on _coming back_.

“We’ve received a message from Number Five,” Coran announces, eyes fixed on the holo screen. It’s late, and everyone’s exhausted after a long day of helping the refugees get settled on Olkarion. The entire team’s been loitering on the bridge anyway, with the unspoken agreement that no one was getting any sleep until they’d heard from Pidge.

“What’s it say?” Hunk asks, jaw cracking as he tries to stifle a yawn. He crowds in a little closer and peers over Coran’s shoulder.

“It just says, ' _found him,’_ and then there’s a backwards slash, and the letter ‘o,’ and then a forwards slash,” Coran reports, and then he frowns. “Some sort of code?”

“It’s a cheer,” Lance explains, still sprawled in his seat, feet dangling over the side. “She’s excited. You know, like--” He raises his arms over his head in a V, and then, because he’s Lance, adds jazz hands, for effect. “It’s an emoji. Jeez, Coran, get with the times.”

“Emoticon,” Hunk corrects automatically, and Lance only shrugs, slumping back in his chair and closing his eyes. “Wait, so, Pidge found her brother? Isn’t that -- this is kind of a big deal, right?” Hunk glances from Lance, who’s already dozing off, to Coran, who’s still puzzling over Pidge’s message, to Shiro, who’s standing, still and silent, his arms folded across his chest.

Shiro thinks, this is literally everything Pidge has been working for, the thing that’s kept her going through impossible challenges. And then, he thinks of the last time he saw Sam, on his knees in the belly of a Galra cruiser. He thinks of the terror in Matt’s eyes when Shiro lashed out in the arena -- it didn’t matter why he’d done it, Matt’s blood was still slick on his hands. He thinks he has a lot of things to answer for, when it comes to the Holts, and he never has figured out how to apologize for it all.

He says, “Yeah, this is kind of a big deal.”

“I’ve got it!” Coran announces, striking a pose, his arms raised in a V. Lance gives him a thumbs up without bothering to open his eyes.

“ _Him_ ,” Allura says suddenly, from across the bridge, her lips pressed into a thin line. “She said, found ‘ _him_ .’ Not ‘ _them_.’”

She’s right, of course, but Shiro doesn't know what to say to that, so he doesn’t say anything at all.

 

-+-

 

His sister crossed most of the universe to find him. To be specific, his sister crossed most of the universe in an _enormous magic robot lion_. Matt’s still having some trouble wrapping his head around that one, but he does best to roll with it. He sends off an encrypted message to Olia, then he follows Pidge back to Green, and climbs onboard without hesitation.

“Actually, Green’s the smallest of the lions,” Pidge tells him, navigating the controls effortlessly. His sister always wanted to be a pilot, and the sight of her now -- flying Green like it’s easy as breathing -- makes pride swell up in his chest. “We’re one of Voltron’s arms, when I use my bayard it makes this huge, awesome shield. And oh, did you know--?”

She launches into a description of each of her teammates, their idiosyncrasies, their roles on the team, their lions’ abilities. They all live in a spaceship that’s also a ten-thousand year old castle, apparently, with an Altean Princess and her advisor. There are also a handful of space mice, which isn’t the weirdest thing Matt’s heard of, but is pretty close. He does his best not to interrupt, letting her words wash over him.

She saves the Black Paladin for last.

“Hold on, Shiro’s _alive_?” Matt cuts in, and Pidge nods eagerly, but watches his reaction all the same. Matt has a thousand questions, but he settles on one. “Is he okay?”

“Yes,” Pidge says carefully, “and no.” As it turns out, it’s a complicated question, with an even more complicated answer. But they have a while yet before they reach their destination, so Matt settles back in his chair, and he listens.

After she gets through Shiro’s story, Pidge keeps talking, nearly the entire way back to Olkarion. She tells him about the planets she’s seen, the people she’s met and some of their missions as Voltron. She tells him about their gains and losses in the fight against Zarkon. She tells how she finally tracked him down, how she met some rebels on Kraydah’s moon in the middle of a Galra attack. She tells him what happened to Te-osh.

“I tried to help her,” Pidge says mournfully, all of the excitement from her earlier stories chased away, replaced by something sad, and small. “There wasn't anything I could do. I’m sorry.”

Green is drifting through space just fine on her own, and they’ll be landing soon. Pidge’s chair is turned all the way around so that she’s facing Matt, close enough that their knees are brushing.

“She thought I was you, at first,” Pidge tells him, like a confession. “She said we have the same eyes.” She’s quiet a moment longer, and then she adds, “You cared about each other.” It isn’t a question.

“Yes,” Matt agrees. He has known his sister her entire life, he can read the slump in her shoulders that says, _you cared about her, and I couldn’t save her_. There’s a lump in his throat, and this is a loss that he’ll have to process, at some point. For now, he manages to say, “I’m sorry you had to see that. But...I’m glad she wasn’t alone.”

And Pidge, his amazing, wonderful, _genius_ kid sister, who has already seen more war and death than any fifteen year old ever should, squeezes his hand and says, “Me too.”

 

-+-

 

It’s late, and her room is dark. Technically, it’s earlier than she would usually be in bed, but most of those late nights were spent scouring the corners of the universe for her family, and, well--

The Castle has entire corridors of empty rooms. If Matt stays with them -- and wow, does she hope Matt will stay -- then they’ll set him up in his own room sooner or later. For now, though, Pidge wants him close. She clears out enough space on her floor for a bedroll, and Matt doesn’t complain.

That arrangement lasts twenty minutes, tops. Pidge shuffles and fidgets and huffs until Matt sits up and sighs. “Scoot,” he says, and Pidge complies, making space for him up on the bed. He barely lays down before Pidge latches onto his torso like an octopus, and buries her face in his chest. Her teammates would probably think it was weird, if they saw, but honestly? Pidge doesn’t care. She can hear Matt’s heartbeat, like this, and it’s nice. Reassuring.

Still, there’s one thing on her mind.

“Matt?”

“Yeah?”

Pidge releases her grip, and shuffles back on the bed until she can see his face. She takes a breath, then gives a voice to the thing that’s been eating at her, and will just keep eating at her until she gets it off her chest. “You had a grave.”

It’s dark, but she can still see the way guilt steals across his features. “I did.”

“That was kind of a dick move,” she says, and she wasn’t angry before. She might be a little angry now. More than that, she’s terrified, of what could have been, what almost was. Her voice only wavers a little as she presses on. “I thought you were _dead_ , Matt. I thought I was too late. Do you have any idea what that felt like?”

At first, Matt doesn’t answer, he just wraps his arms around her and pulls her in tight, tucking her head under his chin. She can feel as much as hear when he says. “I am _so sorry_ , Katie. I hate that I made you feel that way. Can you forgive me?”

“I should have tased you,” she murmurs, and she didn’t even realize that she was crying until then, with her face still pressed into Matt’s chest. “I strongly considered it.”

“I would’ve deserved it,” Matt agrees. She thinks he might be crying, too, probably into her hair, but she’s getting hot tears all over his shirt so she thinks they’re even.

Finally, she pulls away again and says, “Of course I forgive you, dummy. But if you ever--” and now she makes eye contact, and puts a steel edge to her voice, the kind that makes her enemies rightfully afraid of her, “--If you die for real, I will _never_ forgive you. _Ever_.”

“Duly noted,” Matt says, cracking a wry grin. Satisfied, Pidge burrows back in close, and finally drifts off to sleep.

 

-+-

 

It’s no small feat, untangling from Pidge’s vice grip without waking her, but he manages. Now, Matt’s standing in a dark corridor, knocking on what he hopes is Shiro’s door, based on his memory of his sister’s whirlwind tour.

He’d spoken to Shiro briefly, right after they’d landed, but that was it. There were some things he he still needs to say, and he thinks he’ll lose his nerve by the time morning rolls around.

The door hisses as it slides open, and there’s Shiro. It hits Matt all at once, how different he looks. Not just the shock of white hair, or the scar on his face, not even the Galra arm. It’s the way he holds himself, and the look in his eyes. Shiro is deeply, profoundly changed, and Matt isn’t sure what to think about it.

“I’m sorry,” Matt says quickly, because his only other option right now is turn tail and run, and he has just enough pride not to do that. “I know it’s late, and I shouldn't have woken you--”

“I wasn't asleep,” Shiro cuts him off smoothly. Matt looks him over -- his hair and clothes are neat, his eyes are wide and clear. “Do you want to come in?”

“I -- yes,” Matt says, and Shiro steps aside to grant him entry. The lights cast the room in a muted blue glow. It’s neat and mostly bare -- nothing at all like Pidge’s hoard, and exactly what he would expect from Shiro.

“I’m surprised Pidge let you out of her sight.” Shiro says, dropping to sit on his bed -- still made, Matt notes. He was serious, then.

“She’s asleep.”

“Before 5AM?” Shiro’s eyebrows quirk up. “That’s nothing short of a miracle. She...doesn’t always take the best care of herself.”

Matt thinks that seems to be the theme around here, but he doesn’t say it. “Good to know,” he says instead, and then he says, “Thank you, for looking out for her.”

It’s the first thing he came here to say, but Shiro only shakes his head. He stares down at his hands, one metal, one flesh.

“Do you know how many times she’s saved us?” Shiro asks, looking back up at Matt.

“She may have mentioned a couple of times,” Matt answers honestly, and Shiro chuckles. He pats at the space beside him on the bed, and Matt comes to sit down.

“You probably don’t need me to tell you this, but Pidge is amazing. She’s brave, and strong. And, kind of terrifying, when she needs to be.” Shiro pauses, and his fond smile fades. “She’s also fifteen. She shouldn’t be here. But, we couldn’t do this without her.”

There’s really no way for Matt to respond to something like that, so he just nods, once. He opens his mouth, ready to cross the next thing off his list. He starts, “Shiro, I--”

“Wait, Matt,” Shiro cuts him off, and he takes a deep breath, and looks right into his eyes. “I need to apologize.”

“I --” Matt stops, sputters. “ _You_ need to apologize? Why -- what for?”

“I hurt you,” Shiro says, very simply. He asks, “How is your leg?” and the words are light, like he’s making conversation, but the tone is heavy, like he’s been carrying a weight.

“You’re worried about my leg?” Matt asks, incredulous. “Shiro, they _took your arm_.”

Shiro doesn’t respond, but he clenches his metal fist. He says, “You don’t have a limp,” and Matt hears, _I’ve been watching_.

Matt says, “My leg is fine, Shiro,” and that is the truth, but maybe not all of it. He does not say that he nearly died, those first few weeks in the prison camp, thanks to infection from the festering wound. He would have died, if it weren’t for two of his fellow prisoners. One tended his fever, the other picked up his slack when could hardly work through the nausea and the chills. Both died barely a month later, in a plague that humans were apparently immune to.

Pidge told him that Shiro couldn’t remember much of his time with the Galra. Matt remembers _everything_.

There’s a dull pain in his leg -- he realizes that he’s balled up his fist, his knuckles kneading at the scar that Shiro can’t see. It’s obvious, the way the guilt bows Shiro’s shoulders, and so Matt tells him a different truth, one he does need to hear.

“Shiro,” he says slowly, making eye contact. “You saved me. I would have died in the arena. You probably would have had to kill me. You _know_ that.”

“I would _never_ ,” Shiro says, low, but fierce. Matt knows what undefeated really means, and he can’t imagine how many people Shiro had to kill, to stay alive that whole year. Shiro must have some idea, but at least he can’t remember the details. Matt supposes there’s one thing he’d have to thank the Galra for after all.

“They would have made you,” Matt presses, “or else they would have killed us both. You saved my life, Shiro. I need you to know that.”

“Yeah,” Shiro says, breathing out shakily, and Matt wants very badly to touch him, to reassure, but he doesn’t know what’s allowed after all this time, so he keeps his hands still in his lap.

“And anyway,” Matt says, regaining his focus and conviction all at once, “ _I_ came to apologize to _you_ , so.”

Shiro blinks. Matt finds he can’t keep eye contact anymore.

“You told me that Pidge never gave up on finding me,” Matt says, and he hates to admit it, but he has to say it, and he has to do it now. “And you said that she’s strong. Well, she’s stronger than me, because I gave up on you, Shiro.”

“I don’t understand,” Shiro says, a long moment later.

“When the rebels freed me, you would have still been in the arena,” Matt explains, staring at the wall, remembering the cloud of dust and smoke, the camp trembling in the explosions. “I could have gone looking for you. I _should_ have gone looking for you. I was --” He shakes his head, “I was so sure that you had died, there was no way you could have survived so long in that place. So, I just went on. I gave up on you, and I gave up on my dad, and--”

Matt doesn’t get to finish, because Shiro reaches out and pulls him into a hug, nearly crushing him. “We’ll find him,” Shiro says, right into his ear. “I promised Pidge we would.”

It takes everything Matt has not to cry, again, and he’s only moderately successful. “The message Pidge found -- it was meant for our dad. But honestly?” he says into Shiro’s shoulder, “I think he’s dead.” It’s a terrible thing to admit, but Matt doesn’t have it in him to lie. “I know Pidge has faith, but I’ve seen those camps, Shiro, and I don’t see how--”

“Matt,” Shiro pulls away and looks him in the eye -- it’s the same look Matt imagines he uses to get his team in line. “We are going to find your father. Do you hear me?” Matt manages a nod. “Good.” Shiro squeezes his shoulder. “Pidge has enough faith for the both of you. As for the rest of it -- you don’t need to apologize to me.”

“Yeah, I kind of do,” Matt insists, and when Shiro shakes his head, he adds, “You just tried to apologize for _saving my life_ , just, let me have this, okay?”

“Let’s call it even,” Shiro says, with a grin that tugs at the knot in Matt’s chest. “Can you handle that?”

“Yeah, okay,” Matt agrees, and takes his hand.

There’s a knock at the door, and a muffled voice says, “I’m coming in, so you better be decent!”

“Pidge?!” Matt squawks, and Shiro jumps about a foot in the air. There’s another hiss as the door slides open, revealing Pidge, tousle-haired and wearing her blanket like a cape. Matt drops Shiro’s hand like he’s been burned, but not before Pidge sees and rolls her eyes.

“Ugh, you were talking about your feelings for _so long_ , I almost fell asleep waiting. _Boys_ ,” she sighs, stalking over to the bed as the door closes behind her. “Now c’mon, move.”

“Pidge,” Shiro says, bemused, but Pidge puts a hand up and shakes her head.

“Shiro, I have been looking for my brother for _two years_ , you can’t just steal him.”

“Uhm, actually,” Matt says, “I came to him.”

“And I followed you,” Pidge shrugs, not looking even the tiniest bit guilty. “Now, we can either sleep in my room, or we can sleep in here.”

Matt really, _really_ doesn’t want to impose, so he says, “We can go back--”

“Too late!” Pidge declares, and climbs between Matt and Shiro to flop onto the middle of the bed. “I’m tired, we’re staying here.” She tugs her blanket so far up over her face that her bare feet stick out the other end.

Matt looks at Shiro, helpless, but Shiro only shrugs and says, “You heard her.” He dims the lights, then carefully climbs across the bed to put his back to the wall. It takes some finagling -- Pidge is already half asleep on top of Shiro’s blanket, and Matt has no idea how all three of them will fit, but somehow, they make it work.

“Hey, Matt,” Pidge says in a sleepy voice. She’s tucked between him and Shiro, her hair brushing Matt’s chin. “We’re gonna find dad, okay?”

“I know,” he says, hugging her a little closer. “Go to sleep, Katie.”

Shiro smiles in the darkness, and takes Matt’s hand. Matt smiles back, and lets his sister’s steady breathing lull him to sleep.

 

-+-

end

-+-

**Author's Note:**

> I'm orange-yarn on tumblr. I don't have many Voltron friends on there, so come say hello if you'd like.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
